Lily left something unpleasant on the tile floor, on the upstairs rug, and near the doggy door. The phone rings and Jerry tells me we’re out of oil. Fifty seven degrees in the house, four dogs to walk or jog or shuttle through the woods, an oil delivery and work are all shouting for attention in my head so I leave. Lily goes downstairs where she can be messy. Ozzy snorts on the couch and Hershey and Bandit snuggle in their favorite spots. Selfish selfish selfish: I run down the road alone. All by myself hands free no leashes no pulling tugging dogs and my feet slap over and over. Only my feet.
A neighbor with his docile yellow lab walks past. Guilt.
Back home after the couple of miles I stole for me and only me I decide to slap a leash on Lily and let everyone else just run wild in the woods. I toss a stick and Lily and Hershey love it fight over it break it apart. Bandit runs and blends in with the landscape. Ozzy pees against a tree.
Later at work I wonder if she is happy if she hurts if she is comfortable. I wonder if the other dogs will like her eventually and respond to her attempts to play and I wonder if Bandit will relent and stop picking fights. I wonder if I am smart enough or possess the perseverance to train this clumsy pack of willful dogs into something I can manage, into something that allows me to walk in my front door without shoving a knee into someone’s snout and preventing their mad dash to wherever. I have hope and lose it and wonder if the house will be warm when Jerry gets home. The oil delivery came, leaving a $601 dollar hole in our account.